When Life gives you Lemons, Make a Lemonade
by jmmjmu97
Summary: When a young American boy is forced to shift his home across cultures, he finds himself lonely and lost. Will a new, unexpected friend help him find himself? Will he find a new fascination to occupy himself with? No slash. Read to find out my take on the movie. Canon- complaint.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** This story and basic concept of the Karate Kid belongs to Columbia pictures. I don't own any of it. I'm merely tinkering with it to satisfy my imagination, creative juices and for entertainment.

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Hello readers, as a first time writer of fanfiction who has gathered the courage to put open its work to your entertainment and valid criticism, I thank you for clicking on this story. I hope you will enjoy and review honestly. No undue harsh criticism desired, please! enjoy!

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CHAPTER- **1**

He saw some people rush to the airport terminal gate as the announcement for the some outbound flight droned monotonously over the p.a. system in mechanical sweet voice of a lady. A few persons were dragging trains of luggage behind them, exhausted from a long journey, yet smiling at having finally reached back home. But he was among those who were embarking on a journey. He was sitting at the waiting area awaiting announcement of his flight. He touched his own blue trolley bag instinctively and let out a deep sigh.

'Yes, he was also going home', or so his mother said. But for him, what he was leaving behind was home...His home.

The home he grew up in.

* * *

Earlier that day, he had woken up suddenly and looked at the almost empty room around the bed. Realisation had dawned a moment later. Later that day, they were going to board the plane that would take them from their home town Detroit to Beijing, China. He had already said goodbye to his school friends the day before. After that formal goodbye, he had spent the evening with his four besties. No wonder he came home last night crying bitterly. He thought with a pang of sadness how much would he miss them.

He had cleared the bed this morning, stuffing the sheets in the box as they would be donated along with other items which they could not take with them. His uncle and aunt would see through the donation process, they had relieved his mother of that tedious job. How supporting they were! Though he was not overly attached to his uncle Charles and aunty Martha, his mom's sister, he knew they were very kind and helpful to his mom. He was surprised that he would miss even them. Who would help them in the foreign land? No one. They would be there.. alone.

He had showered, got dressed in clothes that had been lying beautifully ironed and folded on the otherwise empty table in his room. His mother had been rushing about the house making sure everything was done properly before their journey. He knew his mother was determined to make it a memorable goodbye to the wonderful stage where numerous happy-sad moments of their life had played out. His mother had been tired but happy on making the final preparations for the move. He had contributed by running errands for her. But however hard he had tried, he could not share in her enthusiasm and effort.

He stared back at the small, thin, chocolate-skinned boy looking back at him in the mirror. White shirt, brown corduroy pants, and metallic sneakers.. he looked a typical American boy. He rubbed his hands along his beautiful dreadlocks, smiling lazily at the reflection. Then he donned on his favourite St. LA Dodgers baseball cap in bright orange carefully. It was then while he was observing himself in the mirror that his eye caught the side panel of the door behind him. He turned around and looked reminiscently at the graffitied vertical side panel. He grew nostalgic looking at the markings in the clumsy, round handwriting of a child. He rushed to the box carrying items-to-be-donated and pulled out a marker from within it. He then decisively marched to the panel and studied it. He couldn't help reading the graffiti again, even though he knew by heart what was written. For he himself had written it. He started reading from bottom to top. It read-

09/01/01 START KINDERGARTEN

..

...

01/01/02 (unreadable..)

12/01/02 LOST FIRST TOOTH

11/24/03 FIRST HOME RUN

..

...

.. .

As he read the inscription upwards, he instinctively touched it and numerous memories related to those inscriptions flooded him...

KINDERGARTEN. He faintly remembered crying on the very first day of his educational journey, having seen unknown faces around him at school..

He had written two more dates : 01/01/02, 10/04/02 above the first entry but couldn't remember why those dates were important. Probably he was too young and small to be able to describe it on the panel, so had left it as such; or maybe he couldn't fit it in that little space so in childish innocence had decided to abandon the pursuit. Anyway, he suddenly desired that he should have written something describing those dates. He was sure they were good memories that were eluding him. He felt angry at himself for not maintaining a detailed record. ..or were they bad memories? He didn't remember.

He moved on to the next entry. Important moment in his life. His first tooth had broken. He did agree that it was a bit silly to think of first tooth loss as important. Yet...duh! You can't put logic on feelings. He couldn't help feeling like that, grown-up boys being strong be damned!

He remembered how he used to play with the wobbling premolar in his mouth with his tongue for days. And when the tooth had finally broken, he had felt something unique had happened. Then later on his tongue kept trying to play with the wobbling tooth which by then had become an empty gum socket. He used to feel quite wierd.. but he didn't remember when he had forgotten about it. Maybe, he should have mentioned that date on the panel too. He regretted that he could not recall significant events of his life at the moment, when it had become so essential for him to do so. He so desperately wanted to cling on to his memories as he was reluctantly going to start a new chapter of his life in a foreign land.

He moved on in the list. Other major milestones in his life. First home run in baseball court("He had felt on the top of the world").. more gaps... less dates.. only major dates..

9th birthday. Yes, he did remember that. Best birthday of his life. His three best friends- Kim, Allan and Chuck had planned a surprise birthday party, complete with mom and close relatives and... dad.

He quickly moved on to the next entry, fearful of memory of that person. He did not know what his feelings were on that subject. He used to try his level best not to think of that very important piece of his life, fearing that it will bring pain and God-knows-what that he would not be able to handle.

However, the next and final entry made it impossible for him not to think about it.

11/13/07 DADDY DIED.

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Ok, How was it?

Many leave this fanfiction just after reading thw first chapter. Believe me , you should persevere a bit and read subsequent chapters. you won't be disappointed.

This is my very first, ever  fanfiction attempt and I'm a bundle of nerves. It would be appreciated if some reviews come my way to let me know -'how was it!":)) Thanks for reading.

See ya with the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again.. enjoy the next chapter!

CHAPTER-2

Daddy.

His lovely daddy.

As far as he could remember, his daddy was his best friend. Yes, his best friends were Allan, Chuck, and Kim, but still daddy was his BESTEST friend in the world. His daddy and he used to go to late night strolls on the street outside thier house. He would clutch daddy's little finger and, bursting with childlike enthusiasm, narrate his daily batch of happenings- what happened at school, at home and his corresponding feelings. Daddy would patiently listen to all his stories, displaying a wide array of emotions just for his sake- sometimes eyes wide in surprise, sometimes excited with suspense. However, at most other times, a genial, indulgent friendly smile played upon his lips that nearly made him burst with happiness everytime he saw daddy's face. He liked his daddy. Daddy and he were crazy about baseball. They would often plonk on the sofa in front of the TV on lazy afternoons and binge watch matches, high-fiving like over-excited boys!

It was not very long ago. He remembered all these memories with a pang of sadness and knew only one thing- he missed his daddy. Although now, the pain had dulled a little. Earlier his eyes would water, merely on hearing his friends talk excitedly about their outings with their mom and dad and siblings. His little family was now only his mom and his little cozy Detroit home..

Oh! Very soon even his home was going to be a part of distant memory!

He sighed, pulling himself out of the painful memories, and made the final entry-

"MOVED TO CHINA"!

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He was jolted into reality as he felt his mom shaking him by the arm. She asked, with lines of consternation apparent on her forehead,"Dre! Our flight announcement has been made. We need to board!"

It was then that he realised she had been shaking him for the past five minutes, worrying over his non-reaction. Next moment, he had to get up immediately because his mom practically screamed,

"DRE! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? GET UP!"

Dre started collecting his luggage. As he reached the line in front of the luggage check-in counter, he finally realised; everything that was his life was breaking up slowly. First his dad, now their house in Detroit and family and friends. He was leaving all behind.

Luggage cleared and dispatched off, Dre and his mom followed other co-passengers to the boarding gate. With suspense on what awaited them in China, and a very heavy heart at leaving everything behind, he plodded after his mother through the jet bridge, the noises of the terminal fading with every step.

* * *

Dre's mother had been keenly observing her only son ever since she had broken the news a month ago that they would move to Beijing. She had despaired as her boy went from confusion, shock and anger to reluctant acceptance, to finally dejection and utter sadness. Seeing him go through such a negative roller coaster emotional ride, she would feel pangs of panic and guilt. She felt as if everything was going wrong. But she never felt more right in her life about any other decision either.

Her life, like most mothers on this planet, was centred around her child Dre. After her husband's death, she realised that now she had an tricky responsibility to ensure that Dre never suffered without his dad being there to groom him.

She knew her husband connected better with Dre; they were like close friends rather than a usual father-son duo. She knew her son loved her too, but the connection was not as strong as with his father.

Hence, she was not particularly surprised when Dre became very quiet and reserved after his dad's death. She ignored her own grief at the time, and tried giving more attention and quality time to him.

But even after more than a year of Dre's dad's death, he had not recovered to his original cheerful and excited nature. He even ignored his favourite sport, baseball and lagged behind in studies. A smile on his face had become a rarity. Her son was now a sullen and depressed young boy.

But she believed that every problem had a solution. She encouraged him to spend more time with his best friends. She went to festivals, parks and baseball matches with him, even though she herself had very sober tastes in life. She often burst into childlike enthusiasm in an unfortunately, futile attempt to transfer some of the infectious emotion to her son.

In one-and-a-half years after her husband's death, she had exhausted herself and was then seriously concerned. She finally confided her worries to her closest people; her sister and elder brother-in-law supported, guided and counselled her. It was then that she had taken the life-altering decision of moving to China.

Her decision had surprised some and shocked many people. She had been toying with the idea of moving houses after her husband's death. Dre had been totally against it at that time and she had dropped it. But recently she had been offered a promotion and a handsome pay raise for a respected position in Beijing.

The idea had taken root. It was a challenging position at work so when it was offered to her, she saw her financial position become better in the coming years; that would secure Dre's future. She considered rejecting it for it would be too tumultuous a change in their steady lives, thinking of choosing a less lucrative but domestic position in Manhattan instead.

After weeks of pondering over it, she talked to her friends about her predicament. And the result of all those endless discussions with her sister and brother-in-law that Dre was getting suspicious about was- they were moving to China. She accepted the position three weeks ago and rest had been a haze of exhausting preparations.

Today morning she had not been able to control the tears that spilled off while removing the last photo frames that captured their many special moments in the home. She would miss everything about the place. The kitchens shelves that she used to scrub every weekend, or the almirahs that housed her husband's clothes, or the bed on which her little boy Dre overslept everyday.

She would not bid a tearful goodbye but a cheerful farewell to the beautiful times spent in the house. Their bye was full of love, thanking the house for being their abode yet apologizing sincerely for parting ways, just like they did to their other friends and family members.

She thought with some anxiety yet anticipation as they took their seats on the plane,

CHINA, HERE WE COME!


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER- 3

Dre hoisted his small carry- bag and shoved it into the luggage rack overhead as his mother's voice announced to him,

"Chapter 10, finally! Dre let's start."

Dre closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, mentally pleading for patience from God. Boy, his mother was so stubborn. He plonked back on his seat as his mother intoned in Chinese, reading from the laptop screen.

"Ni jiao shen he ming zi"

"It means: what's your name?"

"My name is Dre Parker and you know it", Dre replied with a smirk. His mother screwed her eyes at him sternly. He enjoyed riling up his mother when she made him do something that he didn't want to do.

Dre's mother patiently said- "Dre, you need to practice. Everyone speaks Chinese in China. You will be lost there without it."

"Mom, why is it necessary to go to China? Next I realise, we'll be going to Japan. I'm not going to learn a hundred languages, just because you decided that we roam all over the world!"

"Dre, our home is going to be China and that's- "

Dre interrupted, his impatience rising- "Mom, China is full of old houses, old parks, old people." Snatching a magazine from the rack in front of him, he showed his mother the cover.

"Mom, look at this man, he's about hundred years old." He flipped through the pages, showing her a decrepit, old Chinese building-

"We'll have to live here!? Of all places to move to, you chose China?", he hissed angrily at last.

His mother had shock and anger written across her face. Dre had never been so outspoken and angry about what troubled him. He usually grumbled and whined like little boys, often crying to melt her heart in favour of his wishes. Today's outburst, though hissed rather than yelled because of their public setting, showed how much Dre was against moving to China. Her heart sank, with it her face too. But a moment later, she steeled herself, pulling herself to her full hieght, turned to Dre on her seat and replied calmly, albiet in a quiet, dangerous tone,

"Dre, this is the last time you use this tone with me. Your reasons are illogical. Don't build preconceived notions about a country you don't know anything about. You'll see what I mean when you land in China. I have given a lot of thought to it, unlike you, shoving magazines down my throat." Then in a kind, understanding voice, she continued,

"Dre, you are a courageous boy. Nobody is going to eat you up there. Shall we now proceed with our lesson 10?"

Dre's anger disappeared as fast as it had appeared. Though still seething, he became silent and now was a little wary of his mother. He submissively obeyed his mother without a comment and waited for her to start. Sitting deflated on his seat, he heard his mum order through clenched teeth,

"Dre, the man next to you", she nodded her head towards man sitting across the aisle, "Ask him in Chinese- 'Hello, what's your name?'"

No choice at all. He had to do it. He turned, gave the man a look but hesitated. The man stared back impatiently. Words tumbled out of Dre's mouth lest the man turn away-

"Ni jiao... shen .. he ming zi?"

The man gave him a cool look. Confused and hesitant, Dre merely waited for a response.

"Dude, I'm from Detroit."

"Oh!"

It was awkward and funny at the same time. The man was smirking at him and waiting for him to say something else. To get away from the awkwardness that arose in the fine air between them on the aisle, he immediately blurt out,- "whatsup!"

There! The stock, American greeting!

The man shrugged and turned away.

Dre was oddly relieved. If this Chinese-looking man didn't know Chinese, then Ha! he was better off. At least he knew how to say, "what's your name?" in Chinese. And his mum wanted him to practice with other people! With a relieved grin he leaned back on the seat and closed his eyes.

* * *

Dre was annoyed. His first day in the foreign land was tumultuous. No, maddening. No, wierd. Dre had gaped at one of the most opulent and state-of-the-art airports in the world as they had landed in the Chinese capital of Beijing.

After that, wherever he turned, he saw mostly Chinese-looking people (of course, he rolled his eyes at himself!). It was wierd to see mostly black hair or people with very different features. He was used to seeing people with baseball caps or wearing bermuda shorts in America. Here, he saw men and young boys alike in full pants or maybe three-fourths, at most.

Women were stylish yet had an indescribable air of focus and sincere ambition. Instead of looking hippie-cool or glamorous like a typical American, women looked elegant and disciplined. They were not merely walking on the streets, they had the quick, focused gait of wanting to reach their destination on time.

He was bewildered even more because he heard people around him speaking in a very different-sounding language, evidently Chinese. He could hardly understand more than a few words. It sounded more like babbling to him. He resigned himself to the fate of being clueless in a foreign land. He wished he had concentrated more on Chinese lessons with his mother.

His mother looked quite enthusiastic, her eyes filled with wonder. Her face looked like that of a little girl when she steps into Disneyland. If his mother was so excited, then he definitely wouldn't like the place, Dre concluded.

She had adopted this attitude lately. Whenever Dre's mother wanted him to like something, she would start behaving like an over-excited, silly girl, as if he was a little kid requiring to be coddled. Dre didn't like it one bit. Why didn't she realise that was a grown-up boy? After all, he was a 13-year old man, not a boy anymore!

As they sat in the car of the landlady, who had come to receive them at the airport with the sign- 'MRS PACKER' instead of 'MRS PARKER', Dre couldn't help but begrudgingly acknowledge his mum's victory on one thing. Because forget old, this city was futuristic like straight out of some Star Wars movie! Tall skyscrapers with amazing, unique designs and wide, express lanes with shining, sleek luxury cars rolling by. In his opinion, Beijing was 'cooler' than New York or Las Vegas!

This was amazing for him. He counted at least 10 Audies zoom past their car during their journey to the new home. He could only gawk at with eyes wide open and jaw hanging as they whizzed past. Only one word tumbled out of his mouth ... COOL!

As a dazed Dre Parker got of the car, his mother intoned staring at the building,

" Dre! See, our building's name is Beverly Hills!"

Then, smiling indulgently at him, she asked, "You always talked about living in the Beverly Hills, no?"

Dre had to roll his eyes at her sickeningly, sweet jesting tone. He deadpanned,

"Mom, it was the LA Beverly Hills we talked about."

His mother smirked challengingly at him; she walked away saying, "I got a good feeling about this."

The driver, meanwhile, pulled out the luggage and piled it on the front steps of the building. To the surprise of Dre, a young, lean, blond boy came up to them, shook hands with Dre and introduced himself.

"You must be the new guys shifting in 305. I'm Harry. Lemme' help you out."

"Hey, whattsup!"

Dre was relieved. Thank God! At least, he found an American here. He even talked like one of them. He was sure the boy would help him. Smiling gratefully, he hauled his luggage and started following Harry.

Harry chatted with him and informed him to come downstairs to the park once they settled down. As they brought the luggage to the new apartment, Mum spotted Harry and Dre instantly knew what was coming. He groaned. Mum piped in a friendly, motherly voice-

"Look at you, making friends already!", and beaming at them.

Then shaking hands with Harry, she spoke-"I'm Dre's mother. You can call me Miss Sherry. Hi Harry", last part as Harry politely introduced himself. Then smirking, she marched off into the apartment after the landlady, who was pompously going full 'guide-mode' about their apartment.

His mother was a typical "friendly mother". She conversed freely with all his friends and so indulgently, that most of his friends often came to their house just so that they could demand "miss Sherry's" tasty snacks that she made for them. Dre often felt that Dre's friends were more friendly with his mother than himself.

He entered the apartment. It seemed nice, cozy and spacious enough. No carpet flooring, wood flooring instead. Good. He could skateboard here. He was already liking the whole place. So far so good. Yet he was a bit nervous. As Mum went on to check the amenities, he decided to check out the park instead.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: usual disclaimer applies. Enjoy!_

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 **CHAPTER-4**

Down the polished stairs, Dre walked past several battered-looking houses that looked oddly out-of-place to him, next to the Beverly Hills apartment building. Looking around with an air of a tourist finally finding the best place to visit in the area, his attention was again attracted by the park. A man observed this boy from inside his window while eating his noodles.

The park was full of hustle and bustle. Youngsters were playing games like Basketball. Some Chinese ladies were multi-tasking like his mom, chatting and working on the open gym in the park at the same time. Dre had just planned to sit on a bench and observe the place and relax, while his mom figured out the myriad bills, laws, and rules about living in China from the landlady. He did not really have any energy at the moment to indulge in any games. He looked around for a bench to sit on. However, there was a cute, Chinese girl about his age fiddling with a violin, occupying the bench. While he was thinking where else to sit, a ping-pong ball hit him on the arm. Picking it up he looked around, wondering who was playing ping-pong. It was a bunch of old men in vests intent on the game, looking expectantly at him to pass the ball. He felt like joining them. But he had "airplane-lag"; he just wanted to sit down at the bench. At the thought of the bench, he instinctively looked at the bench and found the violin-girl looking at him, amused, probably since he was a good-looking guy. He smirked confidently and turned around to the old people. It would be a good way to make friends with the Chinese. He must make the most of the opportunity.

"You want this ball. Shall I join you?" An ancient-looking man handed him over the racquet.

Pleasant old men passing time, Dre mused. He felt quite at ease in China by now. He didn't know what exactly had he been dreading about China. Everyone seemed passionate about sports around here. Light games like ping-pong were good for old people. However, they would never know the passion of TT that young guys have, Dre thought, grinning inwardly.

"I got no problem playing with old people. You know back in America I was known as the ping-pong Dre. I'll take it easy on you"

Responding to his confident little introduction with an easy smile, the old man started a light but steady volley. Eye on the ball but mind on the girl, Dre pulled a good shot out of the blue… the uncle missed. He turned to look at the girl's reaction. She was openly smiling now, impressed by his shot. At least Dre believed that. Dre's smirk stretched an inch more.

And the next series of shots had the girl giggling with mirth. The Ancient Uncle had decided to reveal his expert skills in TT. The uncle was enjoying himself hitting relentless shots while Dre tried unsuccessfully to hide behind his TT racquet. With the uncle, enjoyed their silent spectator for whom the whole show had been arranged impromptu by Dre.

"Come on man, I'm twelve!" Dre called out.

Gosh, he had made a fool of himself. Old uncle turned out to be hiding his skills behind his harmless, pleasant smile. He didn't like the uncle now. That was betrayal!

Annoyed for having embarrassed himself in front of that cute girl, he tried to resurrect his image by joining in the game of basketball. He waited for the ball to be passed to him. Harry was one of the players and seemed to be interacting with Chinese boys quite fluently in their language. Chinese seemed more daunting now. How would he ever learn to speak this language? Dre was thoroughly perplexed. Would he remain friendless? Dre thought grimly.

But Dre was, if nothing else, an optimistic and creative man who would definitely find out a way to make friends that did not require Chinese. Well, as of now nobody was really responding to English.

He squatted down on the edge of the sidewalk as Harry jogged up to him.

'Hey Man, why are you sitting here? Try to talk around." Hearing Dre's long sigh, Harry continued, "Ok, I get it. It won't be a bad idea to learn a bit of Chinese here".

It was then that Harry suggested him to talk to the girl with the violin as anybody could see Dre repeatedly trying to throw secret glances at the girl.

Dre hesitated. Talking to girls wasn't really his thing. He had his best friends in America, all boys and when they were together, which they were the whole time, he never really gave a thought to the others in his school. He hardly had any female cousins, maybe a few girls in the neighbourhood his age whom he saw once a year in the locality Christmas celebrations. Saw, that is, never talked to them. That was not to mean he was a snobby kid, on the contrary, he was a very friendly person. He was trying hard that others also notice his friendliness. He needed it a lot in China as he had to make friends all over again now that he had left his besties behind.

If he really gave it a thought, Dre would remember knowing only one woman closely his whole life, his mother -screaming at him, nagging him, making him yummy meals, hugging him affectionately, kissing him on the forehead for bed at night, fooling around him, laughing with him. So girls weren't really bad if you thought about it; that cute girl with the violin had that friendly smile on her face, and she seemed to be looking at him too. That encouraged him. But how would he talk to her without Chinese? This time Dre decided to show her what he was really good at- Dance. After all, his mom used to say every time while playing the piano that music was a universal language. The girl definitely would understand it, as she had a violin in her hand. Friendship doesn't need words after all.

* * *

A pair of eyes observed this newcomer boy from America who was trying to be friendly with everybody. Those eyes found the boy to be of a very easy going yet fun personality. This boy projected an aura of innocence that other boys in the park effectively lacked. He found it funny how that boy even boasted that he was good at ping-pong just to be friendly with the older men out there, or to be more accurate, to be friendlier with that little girl sitting on the bench with the violin in hand. They both seemed of similar ages. He liked the little boy's tenaciousness in trying to mingle with the other children in the park. Except for that other American boy Harry, nobody else really paid him any attention. Young children are often this way- lost in their own world until someone gives them direction. This boy reminded him of another boy.

Then the inevitable happened, the boy got beaten up for being friendly, and for being different or, to put it better, unique. Well, who really needs a reason to bully others. Bullies did exist even in this modern era. That boy tried to fight back. But those with the courage to fight often aren't well-prepared physically, not until some incident jolts them out of their complacency. To say it brutally, that boy was weak, he had no chance. He walked back with aching bones, a black eye, and fear and sadness on his face. What a depressing sight of youth it was. They don't really know how to defend themselves. And nobody teaches them the right way.

His next meeting with that New-American-kid-who-got-beaten-up was when he was called to the newly-occupied apartment to repair the broken water heater. No, he was not a plumber. He was a maintenance man. Any kind of household repairs especially in that apartment building, he did it. Now that was not to say he was a poor, destitute man who was surviving on any job he got. Well, he was poor in a way. But not the way you'd think. He had chosen this profession. He was good at it. And he was satisfied with it. End of story. Let us really move on to his meeting with the boy. For, Mr. Han doesn't like to talk about himself, much less being the topic of conversation. Yes, that is the official identity of the two eyes that saw something different in the boy from the first glance. No. He was not a shaman. He was just a good observer of humanity. He had ample time these days to observe.

And he did observe the boy doing his pathetic attempts to learn kung fu from television. Ah, of course, he will learn the ancient art of Kung-Fu just by imitating, Mr. Han thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes. This boy's black eye was still visible, showing the extent of the beating that day. This boy was in for a struggle in China. Unlike USA, China switched off their hot water valve to avoid wastage. America didn't have a switch at all, the boy told him in a casual tone. Mr. Han believed that it were the small things in life that decided the quality of life of a person and the experiences they will have. For what life a person will go through is a reflection of a person's attitude towards life. And this boy saw life through rose-coloured glasses. His face displayed his righteous anger, mingled with distrust and a lot of hatred. No wonder he was trying to learn Kung-fu. He seemed to be a diligent boy, yet very stupid. A fatal naiveté encompassed him. He seems to have led a much protected, cocooned life in America. And Mr. Han sympathized with him silently. He optimistically hoped that China would make the boy, not break him. Not that he would help him. It was the job of his parents.

His opinion of this Parker boy was validated when his mother came into the house. She seemed strict though. The first thing she did upon entering was asking 'Dre'-that was the boy's name- to pick up his jacket that lay discarded on the floor and scolded him about doing the same mistake again and again. Dre whined and grumbled. There was no hope for this boy to protect himself from bullying if this was his attitude, Mr. Han thought sadly. Thankfully it was not his job to teach Dre anything. His mother was more than able. Maybe his father would help his son, see the problems he was going through, and mentor his innocent kid to handle the brutal world.


End file.
